


A New Beginning

by bjrit92



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:10:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2167020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjrit92/pseuds/bjrit92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new take on a tale of the return of someone very special to our favorite Warlock. Oneshot featuring CourtSorcerer!Merlin</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Beginning

I awoke on the shore of a lake. I felt the sand beneath my body and the water lapping against my hand. I opened my eyes to sunshine. I had not experienced sunshine like this in years—so warm, so real. I sat up and looked around myself. I was on the shore of the lake of Avalon—the lake in which I had been laid to rest. Sitting on a rock near my feet was a small, blue, winged creature: a Sidhe. I knew this one. His name was Daan. He was my friend—one of my only Sidhe friends in Avalon. I blinked at him.

            “You look confused, child.”

            I tilted my head—it was heavier than I remembered. “I am quite confused. What is going on?”

            The Sidhe man stood up on the rock, “you have been given a new life.”

            My eyes widened, “I do not understand. Why would I be given such a gift?”

            The wizened Sidhe smiled. “Magic has returned to Camelot. It has a father. It must also have a mother. The Fates have chosen you, child. You have not only been given a new life, you have been given a new gift, one that must be used wisely to nurture that around you in which it also lays.”

            I felt my eyebrows draw together in confusion. Daan sighed good-naturedly. “Magic, child.” He cupped his hands and blew into them. He released his hands and a breeze emerged and flowed over my body. Suddenly I felt a most strange sensation. It began in the top of my head and in the bottom of my toes. The tingle spread upward and downward until my entire body felt like it was vibrating. My pulse had quickened and my eyes flew open and burned—not a painful burn, but one I can only describe as magical. I knew they must be a striking gold. I felt as if I could sink into the ground and shoot into the sky simultaneously—it was overwhelming. Finally the sensation calmed, but didn’t quite disappear. It stayed as a strangely comforting buzz just beneath the surface of my skin and deep into my bones. I looked at my Sidhe friend in bewilderment. “Friend, I still do not understand. Why was I chosen for this? How long will this life last?”

            The Sidhe sat down upon the rock. “You cannot ask me to riddle out the will of the Fates. As for your lifespan—it is great. It is entwined forever in the life of the Father, who is entwined in the magic of the earth. As his life continues, so shall yours. His light shall not die before the magic of the earth herself dims. As his life is long, so shall yours be.”

            I blinked again, trying to absorb the information presented to me. “I’m…immortal? Who is the father? How will I find him?”

            “Calm, child. You will find Emrys in the heart of Camelot with the Once and Future King and Queen. Go now, child. Your new destiny awaits.” As he finished his last words he sank out of sight into the water of the lake. I did not notice his disappearance. If I am truly immortal, I am sure our paths will cross once more. My mind had stopped at the mention of Emrys. Of Merlin. My life and Merlin’s are entwined forever. I must find my way to Camelot. I stood and my feet began to move of their own accord, so great was my distraction at the thought of seeing Merlin again. I absentmindedly began brushing sand out of my hair and off the stolen clothing I still wore. Merlin. I would see Merlin again. Again and every day of forever.

 

~*~><~*~

 

            I approached the gates of the lower town. It was strange to see the walls of the city and enter them willingly, in the light of day no less. I breathed the smells of the town and absorbed the sounds of life that I had not experienced in many years. In nearly as long as my memory stretches I had never felt this free. I was no longer a burden, no longer cursed and hunted and feared. I was myself, and oh, what an intoxicating feeling it was. I had stopped outside of the city and picked a few wildflowers which I wove into my hair on a whim. I wore no shoes, but I did not mind my feet bare. It allowed me to sink my toes into the rich soil, feel the spongy grass and the smooth, harsh cobblestones of the streets I walked.

            As carefree as I may have appeared, I was moving all the while with a purpose. Merlin was in the castle. If I knew one thing in my new life it was that I needed to find him. All the while I walked I absorbed myself in my memories of the man I loved. So absorbed was I that I didn’t realize I was walking into another’s path until I bumped into them. The woman turned to me as I stuttered an apology. She was a beautiful woman. Her coffee skin was matched by the red gown she wore and her dark curls were plaited down her back in smooth waves.

            She smiled warmly at me and waved away my apology. It was then that I noticed her jewels and most importantly, the circlet adorning her head. I had walked into the Queen. Immediately I kneeled before her, blushing. “My Queen, please forgive my clumsiness.” She gently grasped my shoulder and pulled me out of my curtsey.

            “There is no need for such formalities on a casual day as this. I am not sure I recognize you. Are you visiting Camelot? Where are you headed?” I was comforted by her personable aura and immediately felt at ease speaking to her. I smiled.

            “It is not my first time in Camelot, although my last visit was brief and many years ago. I am searching for a friend, I only know that he is in the castle. It is there I am headed.” I bowed my head politely at the end of my statement.

            The Queen smiled. “I am on my way back to the castle myself. Come, we can go together.”

            We began to walk toward the castle. As humbled as I was by the woman, I had trouble remaining politely behind her as she walked, for she put me at such an ease that I did not feel as though I were walking with nobility. I had wandered closer to the castle than I had realized, for soon we were crossing the courtyard.

            The Queen inclined her head toward me. “This friend you are searching for, is he a noble?” I shook my head.

            “He is a servant. I’m not sure how to find him.” The Queen stopped with me just inside of the doorway.

            “I was raised a servant and worked as one in the castle for most of my life before I became Queen. Perhaps I know him.” I now understood my comfort around the woman—she was a noble by marriage, not by blood.

            “Perhaps,” I replied. “His name is Merlin. Do you know him?”

            The Queen’s eyes lit up in recognition and, I believe, fondness.  “Merlin! Yes, he is one of my dearest friends. I know exactly where you can find him. In fact, I am headed there myself. I’ll show you the way.” I smiled happily and rejoiced in my heart: I would see Merlin within moments! I followed her as she turned to walk down the corridor.

            “How do you know Merlin?” She asked me, her eyebrow tweaked in curiosity.

            “Oh, we met during my first visit to Camelot many years ago.” My emotion must have shown on my face as I answered, for as I spoke her second eyebrow raised to join the first. “He…was kind to me when no one else was. He befriended me. He took care of me.”

            She smiled. “That certainly sounds like Merlin. Have you seen him since?”

            My face dimmed. “No. I…left shortly thereafter. I’ve been away for years. I’m not sure if he will even remember me.” My smile left my face as I considered this. What if he doesn’t remember? What if he doesn’t know me? The Queen reached over and grabbed my hand.

            “If there is one thing I know about Merlin, it is that once you are in his heart it is nearly impossible to leave it. If you two had the connection I believe you did, he will never forget you.” I smiled and she squeezed my hand in reassurance.

            “For the sake of my heart, I pray you are right.”

            The Queen smiled knowingly at me. “You still love him.” It wasn’t a question. I blushed. She seemed to take it as a confirmation. “If he ever felt the same for you, I assure you he would never forget you.” She frowned slightly at me. “I realize I do not even know your name.” My eyes widened.

            “Forgive me my rudeness, your majesty. You may call me Freya.” I realized our hands were still locked when my arm jerked backward slightly as the Queen stopped in her tracks.

            “Freya, did you say?” She asked me, as if daring me to admit to my name being a lie. My eyes widened further in shock and confusion.

            “Y-yes,” I stuttered. “Do you know my name, my lady?”

            The Queen seemed to recover herself, although the way she looked at me held new emotions: recognition, bewilderment, and a slight tinge of fear. The fear suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a gentle affection. She covered my hands with both of hers in reassurance. She looked me in the eyes and said with utmost sincerity, “he remembers you.” Mischievousness and playfulness joined her gaze and she smiled at me. “I’ve certainly heard much about you. I have become quite fond of you, especially now that we have met, and I hope to call us friends soon. However, you must stop with the titles. My name is Guinevere, or Gwen, to my friends, and I would ask, as my friend, that you address me as such.”

            I smiled shyly at being addressed by the Queen as a friend. “Yes, your maj—Gwen.” She giggled, and I giggled in turn, influenced by her amusement. Her demeanor took an edge of seriousness. “As I have told you, Merlin is one of my dearest friends. I have heard much about you,” she gave me a meaningful look, “and I hope that one day you will find confidence in my friendship to tell me more about yourself and how it is you have returned from your…shall we say, your holiday?” My eyes widened. She knew she was holding the hands of someone whose hands should not be as warm as they are. However, she did not seem afraid by this knowledge. Rather, she seemed curious.

            We had resumed walking and soon approached a large set of doors. I was not sure where they led, but I could hear the noise of many people talking at once and large items being moved and shuffled around. Over the din I heard a man’s voice yell, “Not _there,_ you idiot, how many time have I told you? If you don’t wish to pay attention I could throw you in the stocks for old time’s sake, I’m sure they must miss you!”

            A second, strikingly familiar voice replied, “You have me conjuring so many types of flowers, how am I supposed to remember which go where, you prat?” My heartbeat quickened and my breath stopped. Unbeknownst to me (or the Q—Gwen) so had my feet. It was Gwen’s turn to be pulled backward by my unmoving body. I was suddenly, overwhelmingly awash with anxiety and nausea. The last time I had heard that voice, it was crying my name as I died in it’s beholder’s arms. I could still feel his tears splashing on my cheeks as I died. It felt as if it could have been only yesterday for me, but I knew his years had been longer and more trying than mine. What if he had moved on with his life and forgotten me? Gwen swore to me he remembered me, but what if she was mistaken? What if he did not recognize me? What if he had settled down with a nice woman—any would be lucky to have a man so kind as him.  I did not hear Gwen speaking to me until she took my face in her hands and forced me to look at her. I am sure my face had gone pale as snow, my eyes alight with terror.

            “—to worry about. I assure you, he is the same Merlin you remember. Why be afraid?” It took me a few seconds to find my voice again.

            “It is not only me I fear for.” I swallowed. “When I left on my…holiday…it was with the assumption that we would never meet again. What will he do when he sees me? When he sees a living ghost?”

            Still holding my face, Gwen smiled and stroked my cheeks comfortingly. “I promise you, Merlin has faced much worse terrors than being confronted with his newly-risen former love. Come, now. It has been far too long, has it not?”

            With that she pushed the doors open and entered the room ahead of me. It was a large banquet hall that was obviously preparing for some sort of celebration. Tables were being arranged and people who were not helping with the furniture were bustling about helping with the decorations. I followed Gwen into the room toward a blond man with a circlet around his head similar to hers—the King. He turned and saw her approaching.

            “Ah, Guinevere! What do you think? I believe the festival this year shall be the best yet.” He looked over her shoulder and noticed me. “Ah, who is your friend?” I struggled to regain my politeness and curtsey to the King, I was searching the room with my eyes for the face that belonged to the voice who spoke to my heart. Gwen saved me the trouble of responding, answering for me. She gave the King a meaningful look and said, “Arthur, this is _Freya._ She’s just returned and looking for Merlin.” The King’s eyes widened considerably and snapped to my face, but I did not notice. I had found the face I sought. He was walking this way, but was carrying a large vase filled with decorative flowers. His hair was longer than I remembered and he had scruff around his face that had not been there the last time I had seen it. He was taller and had gained muscle that had not belonged to the boy who freed me from my cage. He wore expensive robes of a navy blue that brought out his eyes—blue as the water of the lake where I spent the last several years of my life. He was speaking to the King as he carried the vase toward him. The King did not respond: he was still staring at me, mouth hanging open. Obviously he knew my story as well. When the King did not answer Merlin looked up.

            “Arthur?” He looked at Gwen, “What’s with—“ _SMASH._ He had seen me over Gwen’s shoulder and the vase had fallen from his hand. My heart quickened more, a feat I was shocked it could commit as I was sure it would explode. _He remembered me._

            I tried to smile and opened my mouth to speak. My voice was calmer than I thought possible. “Hello, Merlin.”

            Merlin blinked. Once. Twice. He took a step forward, and then another, as if afraid if he moved to fast I would disappear. I did not notice the sudden silence of the large room—everyone’s attention had been captured by the sound of the vase smashing. I did not feel the hundred eyes plastered to my skin—not even those of the King and Queen. I could not see anyone besides the man walking tentatively toward me, shock and bewilderment and hope dancing in his eyes and across his face. Time seemed to slow considerably around us.

            Finally, we were face to face. We never lost contact with the other’s eyes. I could feel a tear roll down my cheek. His eyes snapped to the tear and his hand, with utmost purpose, reached up and stroked it off of my face. His touch sent shivers down my spine and my breath caught in my throat for a second time. After what felt like ages, he spoke.

            “…Freya?” His voice was filled with hope and terrified at the same time. It made me want to cry and sing at once, hearing him utter my name again. I smiled and nodded, I did not trust my voice any longer.

            “Is it…is it really you?” I nodded again. “But…but how?”

            “I was g-given new life and told m-magic needed a mother,” I choked out. There were more tears joined those on my cheeks. I could see the man before me’s eyes glistening.

            “Magic? I thought you never had magic?” He asked, puzzled.

            I shook my head again, smiling. “I didn’t. I was gifted it upon my awakening.” Gathering my confidence, I took his hand in mine—oh, how wonderful it felt!—and, concentrating hard on my goal, I felt the still-strange burn behind my eyes. His eyes and mine never left each others during the exchange, although his widened when mine flashed gold. He looked down at the plump red fruit in his hand. He smiled.

            “Your favorite.” A tear rolled free down his cheek. I brushed it away with my hand. He grasped my hands in his and looked into my eyes. A new desperation had entered them.

            “How long?”

            I didn’t have to ask his meaning. I understood. He feared his time with me here was short. I was quick to squeeze his hands and reassure him. I responded happily, “My life is entwined with yours. While your soul lives, so shall mine. I am free, and I am here.” His eyes widened in understanding of the deeper meaning of my words. His face broke into the grin I had longed to see since he realized the fatality of my wound all those years ago. His grin made me grin, and soon we were both laughing. His hands wrapped around my waist and he lifted me into the air and spun me as though we did not have a hundred people watching us. He set me down and my arms wrapped around his neck. His forehead touched mine.

            “Freya, I have missed you,” he almost whispered.

            “I have missed you so, my love,” I replied. His head lowered and swept me into a kiss unlike any I had ever dreamed of. I could taste the salt from our tears, but along with it came the taste of joy, of reunion, and most importantly, of the future. Our future.


End file.
